Page 45 of Crimson Vows

“What do you mean he lied?” Nico asks, confused by my revelation.

“He told us Anthony died from the injuries he sustained when Gia shot him that night, but it’s not true.” The confession slices through the stillness. “After Gia and I took you to the hospital, Vincent strangled Anthony before he blew up the boat.”

A chorus of curses breaks free from Nico and Dante. They exchange looks, their expressions a mix of rage and disbelief. It’s out now—the ugly truth that taints everything we thought we knew.

Everyone shifts, and within moments, we are all sitting in bed. Nico leans forward, the muscles in his arms as taut as steel cables. “Why the fuck would he do that?”

“Honestly, that part I’m not sure about. Maybe he was worried the other captains would be upset if he made a move against a protected senior member of the crew, but I don’t think that’s it. They all knew Anthony had betrayed Vincent, so nobody would have thought twice about him killing Anthony.”

Gia’s hand falls away from mine, and I hear her breath catch—a soft sound of despair. “I think it was his way of controlling the perception of himself.”

“What do you mean?” Dante asks.

“He was supposed to marry me, and then he puts me aside, the daughter of a captain, to be with someone who knows nothing about what it takes to be part of our world.” Gia’s words are laced with bitterness. “I shot my own father to help all of you escape that night. Think about how that would make him look if he then finishes my father off and still, after what I did, broke off our engagement.”

“I don’t know. That still doesn’t make sense to me,” I argue. “Maybe he was worried you had people in your father’s organization who would be loyal to you if you wanted revenge.”

“Dammit,” Nico curses, slamming a fist into the mattress. The impact sends a ripple through the bed. “Are you fucking kidding me? I can’t believe he could do this to you. If you hadn’t stepped in...”

His words hang unfinished, but they don’t need completion. We all know the debt we carry, the weight of a life saved at the brink of death.

“Everything,” I add quietly, my rage simmering beneath the surface. “We owe you our lives,” I state, looking at my fiancée. The room falls silent.

I shift, the sheets pooling at my waist, the air in the room thick with tension. “I’m sorry. I know you’ve been struggling with a lot of guilt because you thought you were the one who killed your father that night.”

“It’s not your fault,” she assures me. “You told me the truth as soon as you found out.”

“Wait, how did you find out?” Dante asks. “Did Vincent actually tell you?”

“I overheard a conversation.” My chest tightens. “Vincent didn’t know I was standing outside his office when he told his brother-in-law what happened that night.”

Dante’s mouth falls open in shock. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? He told his brother-in-law? He told that piece of shit Ivanov but didn’t tell his own consigliere?”

“He knew I had feelings for Gia. There’s no way he would have trusted me to keep that from her,” I explain.

“Or he didn’t want you to know because he was worried you might turn against him,” Gia finishes for me.

Nico’s gaze hardens, his jaw clenched tight. “This fucking changes everything,” he growls, his fists flexing in his lap.

“What do you mean?” I attempt to clarify.

“He’s alive because of what Gia did for him that night. What she did for all of us,” Nico explains. “Every day, I put my life on the line for him because I believed he would always do what was in the family’s best interest. It’s pretty obvious now, though, that Vincent only gives a shit about himself.”

Dante rises from the bed, pacing back and forth like a caged animal, only wearing his underwear. “He needs to answer for what he’s done.”

Gia looks at each of us in turn, her expression a blend of vulnerability and steely resolve. “Look, I know this is really fucked up, and when Marco told me about it last night, I was about to lose my shit and head straight over to Vincent’s place, but Marco helped me understand if we do anything rash, it will only end up hurting us.”

“He can’t get away with this,” Nico insists.

“And we don’t intend to let him,” I assure everyone.

“We need to be smart about this,” Gia says softly.

“What do you suggest?” Nico asks, and all heads turn to Gia expectantly.

I watch Gia’s chest rise and fall, her breaths whispering through the stillness. “Maybe,” she starts, her voice a low hum, trembling with emotion, “we crowned the wrong King.”

My gut clenches. Caution is a second skin to me, one that tightens with her every word. “Gia,” I say, my tone a soft warning, “questioning Vincent openly... it’s dangerous.” I reach out, my hand brushing against her arm, willing her to understand. “Besides, Amelia made it very clear she has no interest in taking over for her father.”

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